


Stained Glass

by Ceata88



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Jack dies at the very start, M/M, a lot of bittersweet nonsense, but he's still around, r76 reverse big bang
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-19
Updated: 2017-11-19
Packaged: 2019-02-03 14:58:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,869
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12750621
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ceata88/pseuds/Ceata88
Summary: Jack Morrison was dead. There was no way around it.But Reaper wasn't going to let go that easily. He takes what's left of Jack's soul, hoping one day it'll help him find some answers.He wasn't prepared for the side effects.





	Stained Glass

**Author's Note:**

> Hey y'all! Here's my piece for the R76 reverse big bang that I did based on some gorgeous art by Vandy 
> 
> Edit: [The art is here! Go show it some love <3 Vandy did a lovely job.](http://vandyburger.tumblr.com/post/168138944361)

    Jack Morrison was dead.  
  
    There was no way around it.  
  
    Reaper had already tried denial. When Sombra slipped him the plans, he denied that Jack would fall for it. When the base went up in fire and smoke, he denied that Jack failed to escape. When he found the soldier’s body trapped under the rubble, well...  
  
    He could feel the irony in the situation as he pulled Jack free. The smoke burned his lungs, the heat seemed to scrape along his skin, but none of it was enough to slow him down.  
  
    But Jack wasn’t moving, wasn’t responding. As the seconds passed, Reaper’s denial slipped into anger. He shouted, claws digging into that gaudy jacket. Why had he let Jack pick the colors?  
  
    At least the material held fast.  
  
    With no response to his name or any of the threats Reaper yelled, the mercenary finally tore the soldier’s mask off. Jack’s eyes were closed. Blood spilled from his nose, running over his lips and down his chin.  
  
    Reaper aimed to slap him.  
  
    Then his anger faded out. It rushed from his system as he exhaled smoke.  
  
    His grip turned gentle, holding onto Jack’s shoulders.  
  
    “Jack? Come on.” He tried to sound mad but his desperation was apparent in his tone.  
  
    Jack _couldn’t_ be dead. He’d be fine. Reaper could drag him to some doctor to get him patched up. Jack would probably break himself out of the hospital and find a way to blame Gabriel for this. They’d go back to fighting, pulling each other down as they aimed for the same goal.  
  
    Reaper waited.  
  
    And waited.  
  
    He carried Jack somewhere safer, waiting to hear a gasp for air or that gruff voice bitching about how his back hurts.  
  
    Nothing.  
  
    “Jack?” Reaper placed his hand on the man’s chest, hoping for a breath or a heartbeat. “Are you really planning to go out like this? Thought you were better than that.”  
  
    His words didn’t stir Jack. No sarcastic comments came in response. Reaper kept waiting, hoping that if he wished hard enough a devil would appear and offer him a deal.  
  
    Not that it would work. Reaper was fairly sure his soul had been taken a long time ago.  
      
    A soul. Jack’s soul.  
  
    Reaper pressed down harder on Jack’s chest, trying to find it. If it was still there maybe there was a chance Jack was alive. Maybe there was a chance he could use it to bring him back.  
  
     _Why even save him?_ A voice muttered in his head. _Didn’t he betray you?_  
  
    Neither of them would really know the truth if he died now.  
  
    And Jack couldn’t die like this.  
  
    Finally he felt something, a glimmer of hope in all this. He pulled his hand back, trying to tug the soul along with it.  
  
    He expected something bright, a glowing shape that shifted and moved with every thought. He had always imagined it looking like the setting sun or a full, silver moon.  
  
    Instead he got shards.  
  
    Fragments rose out of the soldier’s chest, barely bright enough to be visible. A few of the flickered and sparked like a bulb trying its best to stay lit.  
  
    One by one they drifted into Reaper’s palm, orbiting around an unseen core. Pieces slowly fizzled out, dissipating into the air. It was falling apart.  
  
    He let go of Jack in order to clasp the soul between both of his hands. There’s no way he was just letting it vanish. This was the only chance he had.  
  
    Reaper slowly opened his hands. The shards still hovered, though they were much more tightly condensed. If Jack’s soul was in a state like this, there was no way he could put it back. He should just let it go.  
  
    The fragments stopped flickering. They just floated there, emitting a pale blue light that reflected off Reaper’s claws.  
  
     _“Gabe,”_ Sombra spoke through their communicator. _“A bunch of agents are about start snooping around. I’d get out of there.”_  
  
    Reaper kept studying the lights, trying to make patterns out of the shapes.  
  
    He should just let it go.  
  
    His hand closed around it once more. He spared Jack’s body one more glance before he shifted into smoke and fled.  
  
    When Reaper had put some distance between himself and the ruined base he took shelter in an abandoned gas station. Most of the windows were long since missing, but it kept him away from Sombra’s prying eyes. She was always keeping tabs, even when she said she wasn’t.  
  
    He shut off his communicator before looking at the soul again. It hadn’t changed at all, still glowing dully in his palm. He watched for the longest time to see if any more of it would vanish.  
  
    It didn’t.  
  
    One by one he picked at the broken pieces. Sometimes when he held one for too long he swore he could hear faint whispers. As if someone was speaking behind him. He glanced back once or twice, but couldn’t sense anyone there.  
  
    He tried to put it back together like a puzzle. Sometimes the jagged edges of neighboring fragments would match up, but he ultimately gave up. There were too many pieces missing.  
  
    Instead he started placing them in circles, surrounding each other, somewhat like a flower, like a marigold. If only the petals weren’t so jagged.  
  
    He sat there, flower in hand, watching as the occasional flake of light would drift away only to reattach itself. It was clearly alive, as broken as it was. Reaper tried to tap into it, to draw out some information. Even a jumble of words could answer some of his questions.  
  
    Why had Jack betrayed him? Why did Jack try to frame him?  
  
    Asking those questions directly had only lead them to arguing in circles. Eventually he’d given up.  
  
    But the fragmented soul told him nothing aside from the occasional flash.  
  
    He should just let it go.  
  
    He clutched it in his hand again as he slowly drifted out. He checked his surroundings before he moved on.  
  
    Maybe he could figure it out later.

* * *

  
    Reaper had to be seeing things.  
  
    It was a rational conclusion, as it wouldn’t be the first time in his life he hallucinated. Exhaustion only made it worse, and considering how rarely he could sleep anymore it wasn’t that surprising. Oftentimes streaks of red or images of dead teammates would haunt his vision. Sometimes he could hear their voices in the background, calling his name and asking for orders.  
  
    He’d learned to ignore them.  
  
    But this was new.  
  
    It was roughly two weeks after Jack died. Countless encounters left him having to feign indifference or simply ignore the questions other agents asked him. Sombra sometimes pestered him, although it was always when Reaper was far, far away from her.  
  
    Widowmaker would just stare at him, a sense of knowing in her eyes before she looked away.  
  
    He kept Jack’s soul hidden under his jacket, against his chest. Most of the time he would forget it was there. The light was so dull it was all but invisible against the mass of shadow he would shift into. It gave off no heat, no energy, except in the moments Gabriel got frustrated or tried to isolate himself.  
  
    It was faint, like a hand gently pressing against his skin, but it was there.  
  
    Then he started to see things.  
  
    At first they were just in the corners of his vision: flashes of gold or blue that would have him glancing over only to see nothing. Easy to pass off and ignore.  
  
    Then the flashes became more solid: a persistent glint of light appearing in mirrors and windows, following him. Reaper felt a moment of fear as he tried to locate the source only to find empty space or another agent studying him in confusion.  
  
    The colored lights remained shapeless until he woke up late one morning following one of the rare, long sleeping spells that came from pushing himself too hard.  
  
    It was Jack, just standing there in the middle of the room. His whole body was nothing but shades of gold and blue, translucent enough to see the photos on the wall through his form.  
  
    When Reaper blinked, he was gone.  
  
    It was enough by now to unnerve him. Every flash of light had his gaze shooting over, his distorted nerves always on high alert.  
  
   _It’s just a new illusion,_ he kept telling himself. _Because Jack is gone, you’re making up something new. Stop flipping out._  
  
    Then he started hearing things.  
  
    It started with the occasional laugh. It sounded familiar, but not enough to place it. More than once, he accused Sombra of it.  
  
     _“That wasn’t me, menso.”_  
  
    Then it shifted into words. Usually his name, spoken in soft or humorous tones. Other times it felt like the voice was whispering in his ear, accompanied by a warm sensation blooming in his chest.  
  
    Nope. He refused to fall into this trap. It wasn’t real. None of it was real.  
  
    Then one day he went to crash at one of Sombra’s safe houses after a job. Blood still lined his claws and his gloves, and possibly other spots on his dark clothes he hadn’t bothered to check. He was about to hide in one of the bedrooms when a voice made him pause.  
  
  _“What? Did Halloween come early this year?”_  
  
    He froze because he knew that voice. It wasn’t from his recent memory but he still recognized it from a younger Jack Morrison who never stopped cracking jokes when they were in the field.  
  
    Reaper glanced around but couldn’t see anything. Another hallucination, probably.  
  
     _“Over here, Gabe.”_  
  
    Reaper followed the sound but still couldn’t see anything.  
  
     _“Yeesh, I’m glad I know it’s you. You look a little spooky there. What’s the outfit for?”_  
  
    This had to be some kind of joke. He turned away again, heading toward the bedroom once more. Maybe some rest would ease it up.  
  
    Something brushed against his shoulder. He whirled around, materializing a shotgun in his hand.  
  
    For a moment he saw nothing but gold. Slowly his vision focused to see that his shotgun was passing through Jack, whose empty eyes watched him in confusion.  
  
    “Hey, there’s no need to be scared.”  
  
    Reaper didn’t get the chance to take in anything else. The vision of Jack’s body faded out, along with the voice. He stood there for the longest time waiting for it to come back.  
  
    Finally he dropped his gun and locked himself in the bedroom.  
  
    He didn’t sleep.

* * *

  
    After that, the conversations were more frequent. He often heard Jack’s voice commenting on his surroundings or what he was doing.  
  
     _“Can’t believe someone like you managed to get more stealthy. Where did you even learn that trick?”_  
  
_“This place looks familiar. I’ve been here before right?”_  
  
_“Wait, is that Ana? But I thought she was dead...”_  
  
    Reaper swore he was going crazier and crazier. It wasn’t until Jack made a comment about Amélie that he changed his mind.  
  
    Widowmaker looked away from her scope, glaring as she glanced around.  
  
    “What is it?” Reaper asked.  
  
    “Did you hear that?”  
  
    “Hear what?”  
  
    “I thought I heard someone use my real name.”  
  
    Inwardly he started to panic, but he just shook his head and she returned to surveying the area.  
  
    Reaper still hadn’t dug up the details on what they did to Amélie, but he was fairly certain she didn’t deal with frequent hallucinations.  
  
    Which meant he wasn’t just hearing things.  
  
    There was something there. He considered the possibility of a ghost–after all he was partially one himself–but he’d never actually seen one before.  
  
    But he knew the more likely cause was pinned to his chest.  
  
    When he was alone again Reaper pulled out the soul, still held in the shape of a flower. It seemed brighter now, flashing between colors like the surface of the ocean when the sun hovered in the middle of the sky.  
  
    At first he couldn’t believe something could manifest from a soul in such a deteriorated state, but he supposed he didn’t really know that. It was clearly stronger, more alive, even if the shards still ended in jagged lines.  
  
    “Pretty strange, isn’t it?”  
  
    He jerked his gaze up to see Jack standing in the room. He did his best to settle his anxiety, studying what features he could see on the man’s face. He looked as young as he sounded, roughly in his late twenties.  
  
    Jack smiled. It was hard to tell where he was looking with his eyes so empty. “You aren’t really scared of me, are you?”  
  
    “You can’t be real.”  
  
    Jack put a hand on his own bare chest. “Aw, Gabe, I’d be offended if I didn’t agree with you.”  
  
    “What?”  
  
    He waved his hand around as if searching for the right words. “I mean, it doesn’t feel real. But if it’s a dream I haven’t woken up yet.”  
  
    Reaper tapped at the soul-petals, trying to see if this image of Jack reacted. He didn’t. “Do you... know you’re dead?”  
  
    Jack nodded and shrugged. “Hard not to. The ‘how’ is a lot more vague.”  
  
    Reaper exhaled, feeling weight drop off his shoulders. “How much do you remember? What year do you think it is?”  
  
    “2068?” Jack looked around the room. “But that’s not right, is it?”  
  
    Reaper hesitated. The less Jack knew, the better. Somehow the bastard was stubborn enough to manifest in this broken state. There was no telling what he could do if he got angry.  
  
    “It’s 2081.”  
  
    Jack’s eyes went wide. His color completely shifted to a cold blue. “What? I died recently, didn’t I?”  
  
    Reaper hesitated with that question too. “Less than a month.”  
  
    “What the hell...” Jack floated closer, staring at his own soul. “Is it because I look like that?”  
  
    “How can you even see that?”  
  
    “You remember that one set of drugs that made us all feel like we could see from the ceiling and through the floor?”  
  
    “I wish I didn’t.”  
  
    “It’s like that, but worse. I can feel things, sort of, from here and from there.” Jack gestured to Reaper’s palm.  
  
    Reaper was mildly familiar with that sensation from the times when his own form refused to hold together. It always made him want to puke.  
  
    “You should change your gloves. Not very comfortable.” Jack laughed and reached out, both of his hands hovering under Reaper’s. The mercenary almost panicked but forced himself to keep his hand steady. “You still haven’t told me what this outfit is for. Or this mask.”  
  
    The spirit reached up now. Reaper was so stunned by the warmth that he didn’t realize what Jack was doing until he felt something tug at the mask on his face.  
  
    He jerked back. His form flashed into smoke.  
  
    “Hey, come on. I said you don’t need to be scared.”  
  
    “Yeah? You try dealing with the fact your dead friend is floating around in front of you.”  
  
    In fact, Reaper had already seen such a scenario when he first revealed himself to Jack. The soldier’s shock had quickly turned into rage. After that it seemed like any encounter between the two of them began with a shout and a bullet.  
  
    “Can you at least tell me what’s going on? What happened? I’ve seen some of the things you’ve done.” Jack glanced around the room. “I know you’re working with Talon now.”  
  
    Reaper stared at him for a while. He knew that expression on Jack’s face, trying to look blank but there was the slight furrow in his brow. He tucked the soul back under his coat.  
  
    “If you can’t remember, then I’m not telling you.”  
  
    “What? Why?”  
  
    “I’m not telling you that, either.”  
  
    Jack moved close to him again, reaching for his shoulders. Reaper pulled away.  
  
    “Gabe, please.”  
  
    “Gabriel’s dead,” Reaper snapped. “He’s just as dead as you.”  
  
    The heat rushed out of the room. Even he could feel how cold it was now.  
  
    Jack’s voice was unusually loud when he spoke again.  
  
    “No, he’s not.”  
  
    And with that he was gone.  
  
    He didn’t reappear for the rest of the day. Reaper kept looking around corners, watching, but he didn’t see anything.  
  
    The silence didn’t last. Two days later, the voice in the back of his mind returned as he dug up old photos on a personal computer. Sombra had given him the files ages ago, but he put off going through them until now. He could feel an ache in his chest that he tried to ignore. Some photos were personal, others designed for publicity and posters. Some were taken by paparazzi that weren’t very good at stealth, but Jack and Gabe didn’t have time to shoo them off.  
  
    They never got caught holding hands or trading kisses. Anything of the sort wasn’t allowed out in public.  
  
    But now he slightly regretted it. Maybe the dealing with the tabloids would be worth having one or two photos of it. A single moment of bliss captured so that he could hang onto it.  
  
    Something warm pressed against his cheek.  
  
    It startled him so bad his form fell apart. When he rematerialized, he looked over to see Jack leaning on the table, looking at all the floating images.  
  
    Reaper didn’t take his mask off anymore. He was too worried about Jack seeing him. “How did you do that?”  
  
    “What, you wanted a smooch didn’t you?” Jack stuck out his tongue. “Besides, I’m a ghost. Or... something to that effect.”  
  
    “What do you want, Jack?”  
  
    “Nothing.” The spirit didn’t look at him. “Somehow, I think you’re the one that wants something.”  
  
    “Wants you to go away maybe.” He hesitated before sitting back down.  
  
    “So rude.” Jack reached out as if to move some of the photos to the side. His hand went clean through the projection. He let out a long sigh. “Still won’t tell me what happened?”  
  
    “No.”  
  
    Now Jack looked at him, eerily still. “Why won’t you tell me, Gabe?”  
  
    He tried not to think about the question, but the answer still darted through his mind.  
  
    Because he didn’t even know what happened, when it came down to it. That’s what he was trying to figure out. The more he searched underneath Talon’s nose the more confused he became. The people who betrayed Overwatch didn’t plan this overnight. It took time, years, setting it all up so that in the end the two best people to stop it tore each other apart instead.  
  
    He still didn’t know who leaked the files.  
  
    And, in the end, if he could relive Jack talking to him with that affectionate tone of voice for just a few moments longer, he would take it.  
  
    Jack chuckled. The sound repeated, fading out along with his form his form before vanishing completely.  
  
    Reaper was left alone with the photos once again.

* * *

  
    His distraction was becoming evident to his team. Widowmaker never said anything, she only eyed him carefully whenever Jack’s voice would pop up. Lately, Jack only spoke when something was wrong. Jokes to calm his anger. Encouragement when he was frustrated. All of his remarks were followed by that warm feeling in his chest.  
  
    He hated that Jack always knew what he was feeling.  
  
    He stopped putting the soul on his chest. With it resting against his stomach instead the mind reading seemed to lessen, although it didn’t vanish entirely.  
  
    In fact, it seemed to frustrate Jack, who started to appear even during missions. Reaper was trying to do a stakeout: wait for the target to exit the building, knock them out, drag them off, easy.  
  
    Until Jack popped up, arms crossed, glaring at him.  
  
    “What?” Reaper hissed.  
  
    “This is wrong and you know it.”  
  
    “Doesn’t matter.”  
  
    “Yes, it does.”  
  
    “Hey,” Reaper snapped back, “I have a job to do. If you want to throw a lecture at me later, fine, but I’m not getting distracted right now.” He looked back at the door, ready to move at any moment.  
  
    “How did you fall so far, Gabe?”  
  
    He gritted his teeth. It wasn’t the first time he’d heard those words. Even without all his memories it felt like Jack was slipping back into the person he had been before the explosion.  
  
    “If you remembered, maybe you’d know,” Reaper almost shouted before he remembered where he was.  
  
    “Well I can’t. I can’t, Gabe. And you know why. I wish you would just–me–” Jack’s form twisted, warping to the side before it suddenly vanished.  
  
    Reaper took a moment to collect his thoughts. What had just happened?  
  
    He saw a small glowing fragment floating up toward the sky.  
  
    He snatched it before it could fly away, then pulled out the rest of the soul. A number of the petals had come loose, floating in random patterns. Reaper gathered all the loose ones, forcing them back together for now before tucking the soul away again.  
  
    He had a job to do.  
  
    Reaper didn’t stick around after he dropped off the target. It made Sombra curious, but he ignored her. No doubt she’d try and follow him with the cameras.  
  
    He drifted through the vents and onto the roof before reforming and pulling the soul back out. He took the cluttered fragments one by one, putting them back into place. His hands wouldn’t stop shaking.  
  
    When the floral shape was restored, he thought he saw Jack for a moment, but the image vanished yet again.  
  
    The next time Jack spoke to him was a week later.  
  
    By then his hands were already covered in blood. The building was silent, so much so he could hear the security camera move.  
  
    He stared at the five Talon agents that now lay dead on the ground. It wasn’t an unusual occurrence. Sometimes agents got captured. Sometimes they squealed. The only solution was to silence them and anyone else involved.  
  
    Reaper lost count of the bodies after clearing the first floor.  
  
    He was in a strange sort of haze, as if something was tugging him toward the floor. He turned and walked to the exit to try and shake it.  
  
    When the door opened, Jack was already standing there.  
  
    Reaper flinched and stumbled back. Jack’s body was blue again. Bits of his skin seemed to flake off before vanishing.  
  
    “Gabe, what are you doing?”  
  
    “Shouldn’t you already know?” Reaper snarled back, shoving Jack out of the way.  
  
    “But I don’t understand why.” The spirit followed.  
  
    “You’re right, you don’t understand.”  
  
    “You don’t have to do this.”  
  
    “Yes, I do.”  
  
    “Then tell me why.”  
  
    The anger boiling under Reaper’s skin made his body shift into smoke. He spun around to face Jack. “Because I have to find the truth, no matter what. I tried to make you understand that once.”  
  
    “I don’t remember that.”  
  
    “I know. If you did then you wouldn’t be following me you naive ass.”  
  
    “I find that hard to believe, Gabe.”  
  
    That was a different argument that Reaper wasn’t ready for.  
  
    Jack’s eyes were sad, but there was a faint smile on his face. He reached out, slowly. Reaper didn’t move.  
  
    He couldn’t feel the fingers that brushed against his mask. Jack’s form suddenly cracked before it burst into shards. Whatever air Reaper had managed to breathe in got stuck in his half formed lungs.  
  
    “Jack?” He tried to catch the fragments before they vanished. Panic rushed through him. Keeping his own form was becoming impossible.  
  
    He pulled out Jack’s soul. The flower was still there, but a few of the petals drifted away and disappeared.  
  
    “No, no, no.” Reaper pressed it back together with his palms. “Not yet. Don’t go.”  
  
     _Why not?_ A different voice whispered.  
  
    Because it couldn’t end like this.  
  
     _He’s already dead. Just let it go._  
  
    No. He wouldn’t. Not right now. Not this time.  
  
     _Let it go._  
  
    The sound of an alarm tore through his thoughts. At least five men approached from down the hall.  
  
    Shit. He needed to clear out.  
  
    He prayed that Jack could hang on long enough as he put the soul against his chest. He caught a glimpse of a soldier before shifting into smoke. Bullets grazed past him before he fled through the nearest vent.  
  
    Not long after he got out, Sombra found him.  
  
    “You were supposed to keep the alarms off.” He kept his panic disguised under his frustration.  
  
    “Tch.” She looked genuinely annoyed for once. “And you were supposed to clear out twenty minutes ago. Who were you talking to?”  
  
    “No one.” He moved to step past her, but she cut him off.  
  
    “I still had the cameras on, Gabe.”  
  
    He froze.  
  
    “Look if... you’re having those hallucinations again...”  
  
    Hallucinations? So Sombra couldn’t see Jack on the camera. He wasn’t sure if that gave him more questions or more excuses.  
  
    “It’s none of your concern. The job is done.”  
  
    She glared, but didn’t stop him this time. As soon as he was out of range, he fled.  
  
    Sombra didn’t come after him, but the buzzing of his communicator meant she hadn’t given up. He ignored the messages for now.  
  
    He had to check on Jack.  
  
    He found some refuge in a vacant apartment. The moonlight from the window was the only source of light in the empty room.  
  
    Reaper pulled out the flowered soul. It still flickered, as if gasping for air.  
  
    “Come on, Jack,” Reaper whispered, as he tried to fit the remaining petals back into place. “Come on, not yet.”  
  
    What good was it? This couldn’t possibly last forever anyway.  
  
    The soul flickered again, glowing bright and brighter. Reaper flinched from the sudden flash.  
  
    And there was Jack again, right in front of him, smiling as if nothing had happened.  
  
    “You do still care, huh?”  
  
    Reaper frowned. “Shut up.”  
  
    Jack laughed, loud enough that it almost sounded real. His hand pressed against Reaper’s chest as he moved closer.  
  
    “I was a little worried. You always keep yourself so well guarded, it’s hard to tell.”  
  
    “Jack.” He didn’t pull away. “Are you alright?”  
  
    “Doubt it.” Golden Boy didn’t stop smiling. “Been feeling like I’m falling apart for a while now. Not so much now, at least.”  
  
    Reaper sighed. Maybe there was still a chance to fix this.  
  
    “Hey.” Jack reached up to tap at the chin of Reaper’s mask. “If I promise to keep my eyes closed, will you take this off?”  
  
    “Jack, you technically don’t have eyes.”  
  
    “Is that a no?”  
  
    Reaper sighed, but his irritation quickly faded. He could somehow feel Jack standing this close.  
  
    Just for a moment...  
  
    “Fine.”  
  
    Jack smiled wider, shutting his blue eyes. Reaper let the mask dissolve into smoke.  
  
    Either Jack could still see or he somehow felt it. The hand that had been on his mask reached out to touch his face. Fingers trailed over his tattered skin, sharp teeth, and the extra eye hovering over his cheekbone.  
  
    Reaper flinched, stunned by how much he could feel. “Watch it.”  
  
    “Sorry,” Jack chuckled. “But it’s still you under there, isn’t it?”  
  
    “Yeah, maybe.”  
  
    “Time for another test then.”  
  
    Warm hands cupped both of his cheeks. His instincts fired off a number of warnings, but went silent when Jack’s lips pressed against the corner of his mouth.  
  
    Reaper couldn’t quite keep up with what happened. He didn’t feel like he was there anymore. Jack felt too real to be a ghost. His mind kept jumping from memory to memory. That long recovery in SEP. That agonizing helicopter ride when Gabriel got himself shot in the stomach. That quiet night they shared a room in a safe house. So many whispered promises of a life after the war.  
  
    Those had all gone up in flames long before Switzerland.  
  
    “Gabe?”  
  
    Reaper opened his eyes. When had he closed them?  
  
    “Hey, stay with me. Just a little while?”  
  
    He numbly agreed, feeling less and less like he was in control of this situation. He glanced down as Jack gently lifted his own soul, placing it back in Reaper’s chest.  
  
    When Jack kissed him again, Reaper slowly reached up to wrap an arm around him.  
  
    He was surprised he could touch him. Then again, he’d never really tried.  
  
    “Still like me too, huh?” Jack whispered against his cold skin.  
  
    Reaper didn’t say anything. He wasn’t sure if it was true or not. A part of him always loved Jack, but then again, the man in the red visor, Soldier 76, wasn’t Jack.  
  
    Not the one he spent so many years with.  
  
    And he still had no idea who to blame for turning that man against him.  
  
    “You should get some sleep.” Jack kissed his nose before pulling back.  
  
    “That never works out.” Reaper tried to keep him there, but the figment of light simply warped around his arm.  
  
    “I’ll watch over you this time.” Jack winked. “Goodnight, Gabe.”  
  
    Jack faded out, but Reaper could still feel the warmth in his chest. It was more intense than ever before.  
  
     _“I love you,”_ A voice whispered.  
  
    Reaper decided he must have imagined it as exhaustion caught up with him. He curled up on the carpet below the window, leaning against the wall. He watched the shadows of leaves dance around on the rug as he drifted off.  
  
    Somehow he slept until sunrise, might have slept even longer if Sombra hadn’t tapped his shoulder.  
  
    He startled awake, manifesting a shotgun. It was rare he slept heavily enough to be taken off guard.  
  
    Sombra held up her hands, trying to look unconcerned. “ _Buenos días_ , sleep well?”  
  
    Reaper got rid of the gun, shaking off his drowsiness. “What do you want Sombra?”  
  
    “You’ve been acting weird.” She shut the blinds on the window. “It’s not like you to lose focus.”  
  
    “You need to mind your own business.”  
  
    “Not my style.” She grinned at him. “You should know that by now.”  
  
    Reaper retreated to the corner of the room but didn’t leave. “Give me one good reason to tell you.”  
  
    “Because you being distracted puts us both at risk?”  
  
    “That’s still not a good enough reason to tell you.” He knew he should feel a lot more frustrated, but whenever his irritation would spark, something was quick to snuff it out.  
  
    “Is it because of Jack?”  
  
    Reaper inwardly flinched but said nothing.  
  
    “I know that hit harder than you let on,” she continued. “I don’t really expect you to talk about your feelings or whatever, but you shouldn’t dwell on it. We can’t afford that in our line of work.”  
  
    Sombra had her arms crossed as she toed at the rug. It seemed out of character for her, but Reaper had seen this before.  
  
    Sometimes all that digging brought up ugly truths.  
  
    “Look.” She glanced up at him. “I know you still want answers. I can help you find them, if it would make it easier.”  
  
    Reaper almost laughed as he stepped over. “What’s the catch?”  
  
    “Come on Gabe, there’s not–”  
  
    “There’s always a catch.”  
  
    Sombra pouted. “I don’t trust you, but you’re the closest thing to an ally I have. I would like to keep it this way.” She jabbed him in the chest. “If the others find out about you hanging onto the past like this, it could cause trouble.”  
  
    Yeah, Reaper could believe that. The other Talon members who knew his identity were always trying to pry at his weak points.  
  
    “Digging for answers won’t help,” Reaper said. “Not right now. There’s something else I need to do.”  
  
    “Want me to keep your trail clean?” Sombra grinned.  
  
    Reaper just stared at her.  
  
    “I’ll do it if you help me break into some tech labs. There’s all this buzz about some new phone model.”  
  
    “You can do that yourself.”  
  
    “Yeah, but it’s not as fun.”  
  
    Reaper sighed. “Fine.”  
  
    “Yes!” she cheered before bringing up her holoscreens. “So, where are you going?”  
  
    “Zürich.”

* * *

  
    Reaper let his boots crunch against the gravel. He’d already slipped past the memorial site. For whatever reason they’d never leveled what remained of the empty husk of the old HQ, electing instead to pile the debris around the ruined structure. It made breaking in trickier, but not impossible.  
  
    Entering the building already brought back memories. He could still hear the echo of past voices. McCree complaining he got kicked out of the mess hall. Fareeha gloating about how she’d join them all soon enough. The snap of Ana’s camera. Reinhardt and Torbjörn laughing at an inside joke.  
  
     _“Gabe...”_  
  
    Reaper glanced down a small hallway where the maintenance closet used to be. Always a good spot to hide. The janitor always minded his own business.  
  
    “What happened to this place?”  
  
    Jack was standing behind him, gaze fixed on the ceiling. His colors were dull.  
  
    Reaper didn’t know where to begin, so he shrugged. “It blew up.”  
  
    Jack snorted and glared at him. “I can figure that much out, but why? Who caused it?”  
  
    “In the grand scheme of things, I don’t know.” Reaper got rid of his mask. “But both of us played right into it.”  
  
    Jack expression softened. “I don’t understand.”  
  
    “I couldn’t explain all of it Jack, there’s way too much.” His mind glanced over the lists of names he’d managed to cross off. Even during his years of paranoid digging he’d overlooked too much. Turned out Jack wasn’t the only one to subscribe to blind faith.  
  
    “Gabe.” Jack was suddenly in front of him. “Why did you bring me here?”  
  
    His breathing shook when he inhaled. “Because I can’t keep hanging onto you. I need to let go.”  
  
    “What?” Jack’s voice distorted. His skin started to flake. “Gabe, you can’t just forget all of this.”  
  
    “I won’t.” He grabbed Jack’s arms. “That’s not what I mean.”  
  
    “I know I don’t remember.” Jack’s form was flashing in and out. “But none of this makes sense.”  
  
    “Jack.” Reaper touched his face. The contact seemed to calm him down. “I can’t explain everything but... as commander you never interfered with my work. You had my back like always. It allowed me to pursue my goals my own way.”  
  
    Jack hummed. His fingers trailed over Reaper’s glove. “I feel like that didn’t turn out well.”  
  
    “I got involved with the wrong people. Things got out of control. I was too prideful to ask for help. Too many people demanded answers.”  
  
    “So they blew up the HQ?”  
  
    Reaper took another deep breath, not letting go. “I blew up the HQ.”  
  
    “ _What?_ ”  
  
    The voice was cold. Reaper could feel something rip through his chest. The pain forced him back.  
  
    “You did what?” The pitch of Jack’s voice kept rising and falling. “Why would you do that?”  
  
    Reaper could barely keep his form with the pressure in his chest. “I let the wrong people in. It was out of my control. I had to tear Overwatch down before it got worse.”  
  
    “And that was your solution? How many people died, Gabe?”  
  
    “I did what I had to–”  
  
    “How many? How many more? There’s no point in fighting for the greater good if no one’s there to see it.”  
  
    “That optimism of yours did always piss me off.” He barely got the words out. The pain seemed to crawl up to his throat, suffocating him.  
  
    “Is that why you tried to kill me too?”  
  
    “You weren’t supposed to be here.”  
  
    “Then why was I?”  
  
    “You tell me!” Reaper screamed. Smoke from his body shot toward the ceiling. “I never had the answer to that. There was no chance to ask between us fighting. I thought you betrayed me. You thought I betrayed you.” It felt like someone was trying to ignite flint in his chest. He ripped out Jack’s soul. The jagged edges were pointing out like teeth.  
  
    “Now we’ll never know.” Reaper mumbled. “Not unless you remember.”  
  
    Everything went silent. Reaper listened to the wind passing through thte open windows. The shards of Jack’s soul slowly settled down, although the flower was in pieces.  
  
    “Why were you there?” Jack spoke up. “Why get yourself caught in the explosion?”  
  
    Reaper sighed. “I, myself, was a loose end. Either I had to take myself out, or pretend I did. I wanted to move the suspicion somewhere else, away from you and Jesse. My plan was to leave the truth finding to you but...”  
  
    “But?”  
  
    “You came back to the base. You were mad about leaked Blackwatch files. Not just the content, but you blamed me for doing it.”  
  
    “Did you?”  
  
    “No. If I had planned to, I would have done it when all of us were well hidden.”  
  
    Jack scratched his chin. “Then I came back because of that, right?”  
  
    “I don’t know, Jack.” Reaper glanced outside. The sun was coming up. “You trusted me too much. Whoever fed you that information must have had a convincing argument. They knew what I was up to. Not only did it trap us both but they still put the blame on me.”  
  
    Jack curled up, hovering in the air. “I can’t remember but... I have a feeling I didn’t just come back because I was angry.”  
  
    “Like I said, no way of knowing now. Not until I find out who gave you that information.”  
  
    “You don’t know?”  
  
    “No, that’s why I’m with Talon, or one of the reasons.”  
  
    Jack’s colors were shifting to blue. “It’s still wrong.”  
  
    Reaper chuckled. “Yeah, I know. You used to love reminding me of that when you were alive.”  
  
    The soldier leaned toward him. “Did you kill me?”  
  
    “No, Talon somehow lured you to one of their empty bases and dropped the roof on your head.”  
  
    “Figures.” Jack actually pouted and crossed his arms. “It couldn’t be something cool like fucking up a motorcycle stunt.”  
  
    “Wish I knew what they told you. You were never that stupid.”  
  
    “Gee, thanks.”  
  
    Both of them laughed but the conversation dropped after that. Reaper hesitated with Jack’s soul still in his hand. He needed to let it go. He needed to let Jack move on.  
  
    Even if he couldn’t.  
  
    “So now what?” Jack floated even closer, taking Reaper’s hand. “You let me float into space and I turn into stardust?”  
  
    “Yeah, you would be made of hot gas.” The comment more or less slipped out, but Jack still laughed. God, Gabriel missed that sound. He couldn’t remember the last time he heard it. Even long before the big fight, between the stress of their jobs and the separation, he never had a chance.  
  
    Reaper loosened his grip on the soul. The fragments started to dance. “Jack, I’m sorry. A lot of my mistakes landed us in this mess.”  
  
    “Don’t take all the credit.” Jack’s hands moved to his face, tilting his head back. “Pretty sure we all fucked up.”  
  
    Reaper let Jack kiss him. Blissful memories rushed through his senses. He could almost smell that awful cologne he used as Strike Commander.  
  
    “But I’m not leaving yet.”  
  
    Reaper froze. “Jack, I can’t–”  
  
    “I know.” Jack put a finger to his lips. “Just trust me one more time.”  
  
    He wasn’t sure about that. What could Jack even be planning? His soul was falling apart. Even if he wanted to stay, it wouldn’t remain intact forever.  
  
    Jack kept his face close to Reaper’s as he carefully picked up his soul. The loose fragments melded into his fingers.  
  
    “Jack.” Reaper didn’t pull away, in spite of his fear. “Do you know what you’re doing?”  
  
    He grinned. “Not entirely.”  
  
    “Then why should I trust you?”  
  
    “Because you love me?”  
  
    Reaper couldn’t think of an argument to that. He didn’t have time. Only now was he aware of something sharp pressing into his chest.  
  
    He tore himself away but the pain only got worse. He stared at Jack, who was no longer holding his soul. The bastard kept smiling, even as he dissolved into the air.  
  
    “Jack?” Reaper tried to call out. He clutched at his chest, not sure what was going on. He reached in, trying to pull the shards out, but they were gone.  
  
    Where did it go?  
  
     _Hey Gabe?_ Jack’s voice echoed in his head. The pain faded into warmth, but the damage was done. Reaper collapsed on the floor and everything faded into a haze.

* * *

  
    This was a bad idea, Reaper thought as he stood outside of the necropolis. Ana wasn’t going to be happy to see him.  
  
   _To see us,_ Jack corrected.  
  
    Yeah, having these shards attached to his soul was also a bad idea.  
  
     _Excuse me,_ Jack argued, _but I already know you love having me around._  
  
    “You’ve made me far more reckless. Sombra’s suspicious.”  
  
     _She always is. Now come on, I need to talk to Ana._  
  
    Reaper sighed but began to move. He’d already located all the cameras. Avoiding them was easy work, getting inside even more so with all the openings. There was no way of knowing where Ana was. He kept his pace slow as he slipped further in. Jack tried to take over when they passed his stuff. Reaper was surprised it was still here.  
  
    He heard the click of a gun. He turned his head slowly to see Ana glaring at him.  
  
    “Gabriel.” Her eye was intense, never moving. “What do you want?”  
  
    Reaper stood up straight. He took a step forward and opened his mouth, but the voice that emerged wasn’t Gabriel’s.  
  
    “Hey, Ana.”


End file.
